


Nighter

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 08:16:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scotty and Keenser work on their shuttle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nighter

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

When’s it back to an Earth shipyard, it’s back to nights and days. They’re up far into the middle of the night, the only two redshirts willing to forgo some much needed sleep. Two other members of Montgomery’s team beamed down with them but left when the sunlight started to wane. They all spent enough time on the docked Enterprise, but now she’s up and purring again. If Montgomery and Keenser don’t fix this little battered shuttle they practically put together themselves on Delta Vega soon, the Enterprise is going to take off without it. 

Montgomery’s never been one to leave a perfectly good piece of technology behind. He’s more than willing to sacrifice a bit of shuteye. There’s actually a kind of peace to this. It’s just him and _Keenser_ again, the two of them, like it was for so long and still sometimes is, sharing a passion and building something beautiful. Montgomery’s been on his back under the navigation console for the better part of an hour, and he calls out from under it, “’Ey! Wee monster!”

Somewhere to his left, there’s a noncommittal grunt. He knows it’s not in response to the petname; Keenser’s just a man of few words. A good listener. Maybe that’s why they work so well together.

Or maybe that’s because Montgomery’s always preferred hard, grey, detailed surfaces to softness and skin, and when Keenser shifts over to see what Montgomery needs, he fits perfectly in Montgomery’s lap. He straddles Montgomery’s waist, sitting down with his legs bent at the knees, one ridged hand on Montgomery’s stomach. The other hangs onto the top of the console, and Montgomery tilts his chin to see Keenser peaking beneath it expectantly, blocking half the light. His beady eyes waver through their dark pits for a moment, eyeing Montgomery up and down. Montgomery’s sure he’s a mess; he’s covered in grease and sweating a storm.

That’s how they always are together. Dirty and raw. “Gettin’ tired?”

Keenser makes a grumbled, “Mmrph,” noise. He does a lot of those. It’s not Roylan; it’s just a Keenserism. Sometimes, Montgomery likens it to the purring of a tribble. 

He prefers Keenser to any tribble. 

Keenser ducks beneath the console, turning around to lie on the floor. Montgomery has to shift over to make room; it’s a tight squeeze. But they manage. They always do. Keenser lies on his back, hard shoulder pressed up close against Montgomery’s. Montgomery tries to get back to the wires he’s been working on, but he falters. 

His arms drop to the floor. Just a minute of rest. Keenser’s vaguely leaning against his shoulder. In ways, he’s like a tiny ship; the most complex and fascinating one Montgomery’s ever had. Montgomery has the ridiculous thought that he’d like to dock in Keenser’s ring, and then he snorts at his own nonsense. He expects Keenser to look over at the noise. 

Keenser’s asleep against him.

Montgomery settles in against the hard floor and his partner to follow.


End file.
